


Teo Torriate (Let Us Cling Together)

by choriarty



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 05:50:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6692131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choriarty/pseuds/choriarty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you think we can trust them?” she asked.</p>
<p>The Iron Bull did not know, but he could not get the image of Dorian’s slim fingers brushing against Felix’s in the Chantry, and Felix gently holding them before they both pulled away.</p>
<p>- - -</p>
<p>A slow build Felix/Dorian/Iron Bull fic, because I need more and I am Weak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teo Torriate (Let Us Cling Together)

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd!! It's 2AM and I just want to finish this first chapter and publish before I pass out. This first chapter is just a prologue, so don't worry. There will be lots and lots of in-depth gays later.

The moment Felix laid eyes on Dorian, he thought him beautiful. 

It was a fact of life; how Felix's mother was beautiful, or the ocean, or the flowers that grew on the estate; Dorian was also beautiful. 

Sometimes he thought it unfair, at least to others, that Dorian was so pretty. None of the little girls whom his father introduced him to could compare. Sure, they were nice. Elizabeth always wore nice dresses and Dona was very kind, but no one could compare to Dorian. A part of his mind preached that Dorian would look even better than those girls in a fancy dress.

Thinking back on that idea makes Felix turn an embarrassing shade of red.

However, they had only met a handful of times, if that handful included whenever they attended the same party and Felix tried to find him. It was not until they were two young adults that their paths crossed once more.

Dorian was even more beautiful than Felix remembered.

It was obvious at that point, and any point after that, that Felix may have had a bit of a thing. 

He followed Dorian around whenever he could. Even if his father’s research was a tad too theoretic and mystical for him, he would ask Dorian about it just to have something to talk about, and they talked about everything. Studies, family, interests, politics, and the future. 

The more that Felix got to know him, the more he realized that Dorian was not only a pretty face. He was brilliant, talented, and kind. Most of all, he was passionate. The passion inside of him burned the heat of a thousand suns, it shone from his smile and from the mischievous glint in his grey eyes. Sometimes watching him rant made Felix feel like he was burning from the inside, his hands twitching and aching to hold him.

“Don’t get in trouble on my behalf,” Dorian would say, late at night, when only the light of a dying filled the alcove that held the two of them. Felix wanted to close the space between them. He wanted to take the sweet cakes he stole from the kitchen and feed them to Dorian. He wanted to steal the papers and pens from Dorian’s lap and take their place.

But there was already white powder on Dorian’s upper lip from the bite he had taken. The warm light of the candle made his eyes sparkle, and the stars painted the background of his sitting form. The small curve of a smile made him look like the embodiment of trouble.

And if Dorian was the embodiment of trouble, then “I like trouble,” was the biggest understatement of the Dragon Age.

= = =

The first time The Iron Bull saw Dorian, he thought him beautiful.

But he also thought “this isn’t the ‘Vint we’re looking for…”

And then the ‘Vint there were looking for showed up too.

Dorian was beautiful the same way a statue was beautiful, or the gold-trimmed arches in Orlais. He was beautiful like the ocean, and powerful like the ocean as well. Bull imagined seeing the mage trussed up in white silk and set on display in a museum, or dressed in black and name spoken like it would summon him.

The Iron Bull had not had the time in the tavern to really look at Felix, but as the two ‘Vints stood together, he had a hard time getting the image out of his mind. If Dorian was the ocean, Felix was a great oak, or perhaps an entire grove of strong trees. His pale skin and dark bags spoke of his very real illness, but his eyes told the real story of how strong he was, his hands held the callouses of a knight. 

Their mouths moved and made sound, but Bull was too busy watching their eyes. Their eyes said something different, spoke of unsaid words to each other. In the end, The Iron Bull had to look away. It was too personal.

Then Dorian left, and so did Felix, both with the promise of aid for aid in return. The Inquisitor led her party outside and asked for opinions. They all felt it, the coming of something big, like the smell of the air before a thunderstorm.

“Do you think we can trust them?” she asked.

The Iron Bull did not know, but he could not get the image of Dorian’s slim fingers brushing against Felix’s in the chantry, and Felix gently holding them before they both pulled away.

= = =

If Bull had doubts about the nature of Felix Alexius and Dorian Pavus’ relationship before, he had none after the ordeal at Redcliffe. If it could have been called an ordeal, since the ordeal never actually happened? Or it had happened, but then had not. 

It was confusing, to say the least.

Dorian had barely let the green glowy shit fade away before rushing to Felix and wrapping his arms around him. They might as well have started undressing and macking on each other right there.

Alright, maybe a bit of a lie.

But if the Boss looked shaken after whatever that spell had hit them, and then un-hit them, Dorian looked like he was half-dead on his feet. He sounded like it too. His voice was scratchy and dry. The Iron Bull honestly felt kinda sorry for him and the Boss, for whatever had happened to them.

(Dorian did not want to talk about it later.)

Things got kind of crazy kind of fast, after that. Alexius was arrested, the fucking King of Ferelden showed up, and then everyone was kicked out.

And in the chaos of everyone packing up and leaving, in a small corner, The Iron Bull saw Dorian holding onto Felix like he was about to fly away when he let go.

= = =

Dorian came to Haven and stayed there, just as he said he would.

And Felix followed.

Not that Bull saw Felix much. If he was not holled up in a cabin, he was being tailed after by Dorian as he fussed about the chill and its affect on his health. Eventually, after Felix tore him a new one because he was “not a child, Dorian!”, The Iron Bull saw much more of him outside. Not that he ever strayed far from the other ‘Vint. If Bull ever entered the walls he could catch them murmuring to each other or debating loudly. Sometimes, if he was lucky, he could catch them grinning and laughing while making eyes at each other.

Today was the first time he had caught them entering the tavern at the same time as him. He playfully wondered if the place was too low class for them, picturing the way they had rode into Haven on a wagon full of turnips. 

But one look at Dorian spoke volumes. He looked like a protective mabari, if protective mabaris could school their faces to look like a pompous ass. His left hand twitched at his side, and Bull assumed it was because he was itching without his stave, but one look at what was to his left and he knew otherwise.

Felix led Dorian in. His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he took in his surroundings and he leaned to the right and said something to Dorian, who did not look any less hackled afterwards. They were both kind of cute, like a boy and his guard dog.

The Iron Bull always had a weakness for cute things. 

“There’s two seats free over here, fellas!”

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly wrote this so I could live out my dreams of Felix living and also being happy and Dorian being happy and The Iron Bull being happy and


End file.
